<documenta X><blast> SParadise
cd (cwduff@alcor.concordia.ca)
Sun, 21 Sep 1997 15:32:53 -0400 (EDT)
Space cracked like a diamond sutra against the casbah, the medina.
Some night of births and hunger. famished child of her choice thighs and
thought. Her hand body lover and mesa plata ebbing before salty plains.
Rolling in fantasms of need. Something like a fang in her gut. She saw him
then agains the empty space of the calendar. All testaments of woman
crying in his body long need for her. Simple as pain, and rich as long
gone spaces . Where once they walked. In the simple garden. With gardenias
and the long snake of desire. The god spoke with them astral planes over
ether lip. Oh shake when you see his face. The plane rumbled landing,
hummmmmmm and rummmmmmm and whiisssssshhhhh it went as it sidling along
the jigging air strip of her body. Her body tunnel went to him. Oh garages
and filters of diamond and hand finger gripping. She gripped her coldest
finger hard, like a cinema pleasure, a taunt to her would be lover. To
miss her terribly. Across a spasm of abyss and want. She held him now like
a skin a bone she had trespassed and wanted all her life. Some strange
tense of tenting womb held him into her no matter how he walked away. No
god held them in the mirror death of history and past. Of thousands death
and mother graces. All the way through a country never seen. She knew that
plane was cominng. The Boeing 707 tilted its wings hovering toward the
city's birds eyeview. There was the Eiffel tower and the Louvre, the
cathedrals and walking milling bodies along the Seine. She was seeing him
see her through the port window and the wind whoooooooooooossssseddd. The
jets roared and space goddesses called his names from many past Paris's.
She was the cafe waitress and the stress chord of his absence and his
missed encounter. The first time. They loved over the art silence and the
art song. The marquee of St. Michel shone and the clicking shoes and heels
of passersby said he-her names.Oh mouths of civilization and desire - of
lust and the hammer of night and the brilliant cave of her mouth. The
body was a wound in her long song. The near need and the open ride. Over
the street they drive. Long night passes them by, swaying gently in its
passages. Stop they stop and stutter and breath. She hears his word, it is
her word, her weird. Along the wharf of the bridge of suffering they
meet. Now almost drowned she held his back against time. Telescoped his
love pain into her breast soft touched his hand on her heart breast. Come
baby child man wound eat my breast. Hold my memory in yer hatred. Let me
speak against your envy pain lover man. No gender dies your body. In the
single molecule of me loving you.
Fell back exhausted. No address No picture for her hand to see,
she did not see him as he sauntered past her look. No she stopped him
knowing very well his image even without a first viewing. She said now the
butter for the croissants. This is not dead, it is you. And me. Oh trees
of link and speed. He felt all the city dogs die and her hand held tress
wore his name. Her body very real and his. His body hers very well.
Now speak night. Again . True word ... Ellipsis of return and
curve of space into yer bodies by fields of desire. Close like a dream
calling. Called you to me me to thee. In the summer night of the sonnet
pull. The rhyme of your love for me too strong.
Now close end and close to. And life like. That brings two ones
together to gather in the blossom stage their oneness. Cannot break all.
Or ever. because forever Now in the One met of their close. So speak he
sails into her heart mouth a word song again in the needy word . She
harbour loves his death chant. He wears the loom of her love eternity and
days. With space marking always the place they encounter.
The cafe was delightful as always. She went to work then. He
returned also to work. Speaking in the day of work. The lovers met later
and shared the mystery coupling. Oohhhh song of the body lovers. and the
netting hands and the ringing lips and the breast to breast beast to
beast.
Spoken again in the old tongues.
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documenta X Kassel and http://www.documenta.de 1997
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